I love every bone in their heads.

Dreaming, not keeping lookout, feeling alone, and above, and apart, watching the dawn creep like a painted dream over the sky and sea which slept together.

Age’s terms of peace, after the long interlude of war with life, have still to be concluded-Youth must keep decently away-so many old wounds may have to be unbound, and old scars pointed to with pride, to prove to ourselves we have been brave and noble.

Only the past when you were happy is real.

It is Mystery – the mystery any one man or woman can feel but not understand as the meaning of any event – or accident – in any life on earth...

There was no damned romance in our poverty.

You seem to be going in for sincerity today. It isn’t becoming to you, really – except as an obvious pose. Be as artificial as you are, I advise. There’s a sort of sincerity in that, you know. And, after all, you must confess you like that better.

Soon, leedle proletarians, ve vill have free picnic in the cool shade, ve vill eat hot dogs and trink free beer beneath the villow trees! Like hogs, yes! Like beautiful leedle hogs!

I discovered early in life that living frightened me when I was sober.

It’s a great game – the pursuit of happiness.